Behind the Curtain
by shinningcitystar
Summary: A look into Maureen's past. How she became who she was and what she is today. Begins postRENT but will flashback, some of it is AU. MJ?
1. Goodbye Love

Chapter 1: Goodbye Love

I stood at the edge of the cemetery. The air was crisp, burning my throat as I sucked it in. I pushed my gloved hands further into my pockets as I watched my breath creep out of my mouth in wisps that melted away into oblivion - just like my former life, the life that I was currently standing at the edge of. I had forgotten how cold New York could be in the late fall. Guess that's what I get for living in the land of no seasons. It's funny; I actually missed the cold, feeling the air bite you as it rushed by, the taste of that first snow. How if you looked out at the city in the wee hours of the morning after a snowfall, how peaceful it all looked – before the hustle and bustle and the snow melted into gray slush. That was one of my favorite memories, sitting on the fire escape of the loft with a blanket wrapped around me, knees up to my chin, just watching the city and marveling in the quiet. So peaceful…I could feel the tears welling up. I quickly brushed them away. A trip down Memory Lane was not what I needed at the moment.

I sighed; my breath appeared in a long trail, like I had been smoking in an old 1940's movie. Turning my gaze back to the burial I had come for, I saw the small remains of what had once been a lively and vibrant group. They turned and walked away, only looking back once – this was the end.

Now it was my turn. I urged my feet to move, and with heavy laden steps I walked over to the freshly dug grave. The final death, the end of an era so to speak, an era that I hadn't been part of for the majority of the time. How I regretted that – and yet, it was just too painful to come back.

I knelt down on the dirt. To my left was a familiar headstone – _Angel Dummot Schunard 'today for you.'_ It was fitting, perfect actually that they be together in death as well as in life. I looked further down, I couldn't quite bring myself to confront what was in front of me. Next to Angel was Mimi, then Roger and finally April. Funny how even in death they were all connected in a strange sort of reality – forever resting with their mistakes and joys. I wondered where I would be put, if I was buried here at all. Next to Collins? In between Mark and Joanne? I shivered; thinking about your own grave in a cemetery wasn't the smartest thing to do.

Finally, I turned to the grave I was practically kneeling on. This one was the hardest. Although there was no headstone yet I could picture it – _Thomas B. Collins_ and some cute inscription, most likely a comment on anarchy or his Actual Reality theory. Thomas B. Collins: my best friend, brother, father, fellow anarchist, lover (though never like that, just in the fact that we loved each other more than I had ever thought was humanly possible, in a strictly platonic way). He was my family, the person who took me in, my protector, my lifeline, the only one I could tell anything to and not be afraid of judgment. The one who understood. And one of the few good people left on this planet; he watched as his family broke apart. It wasn't fair that he was taken, and yet he had longer than anyone had expected, now he was once again with his Angel. I started crying, why Collins – people that good shouldn't die this way.

I picked up a handful of dirt, letting it sift through my fingers back to the cold ground. I cleared my throat – more for something to do then anything else.

"I keep expecting to hear you walk up behind me and give me a huge bear hug while exclaiming something crazy that will make me laugh," I paused, my voice breaking, "You were – are so important to me, more then anyone ever. You took me in when I needed it, put up with me at my worst, supported me in everything I did, I don't think words can express how much I love you. We had such good times…" I cracked a watery smile, getting lost in memory lane again, "If I can ever be _half_ the person you were, I'll consider myself a job well done because Col-you were one of the best people I knew. I know if you were here you would laugh and sush me, but I'm serious – you and Angel. I'm glad you two can be together again, it's nice to know that love actually does exist. And I want you to promise me that you'll shake up Heaven a little! Collins… I want – I wanna say I'm sorry – for not being there, I mean, when you – when you…" I broke down sobbing then. Silent body shaking tears that soon turned into loud wet pools that turned the ground I was kneeling on to mud. "What am I going to do without you Collins?" I put my head down on the cold earth, my sobs still racking my entire body.

I have no idea how long I stayed like that. Minutes, hours, time seemed to stand still – the world stopped spinning and the sky fell down. Alright, I know that was dramatic, but they didn't call me the drama queen for nothing, I suppose. But just now I didn't care how dramatic I was being, one of the only people in this world to keep me sane and living was gone.

I heard feet shuffling behind me, but didn't bother to look up, it was probably just some cemetery staff person or something. Then the feet stopped and the person spoke.

"Hey, umm… sorry to bother you... I just… ummmm…. forgot something… I didn't mean, well I'm just, uh…"

The odd and fumbling speech pattern caught my attention. I looked up and just as I had suspected was met with clear blue eyes. Eyes that I used to know so very well.

"M-M-Maureen?" He asked.

"Hey Mark," I replied. He helped me to my feet, always a gentleman. I brushed the dirt off my jacket. We stood there for what felt like an eternity. He was looking at me with a puzzled expression, with good reason I suppose – this was the first he had seen or heard from me in almost a decade. I looked down, not sure of what to say.

Mark finally broke the silence, "You came for Collin's funeral?"

It was an awkward question, accusatory, he didn't know I'd been there for the others. How could he, I had kept to the back, an out-of-site-out-of-mind type of idea. It was such a drastic change from what I was used to, my sweet, innocent Marky standing in front of me accusing me of something he didn't even understand. Taunting me almost, as if he felt I didn't have a right to be there because I left. I burst into tears. By now my mascara was in stripes down my face, my eyes red and puffy, pieces of dirt stuck to me. Mark, out of habit it seemed, opened his arms and I fell into them, sobbing openly. Mark just held me while I cried, not caring that I was getting his shirt and scarf wet. He was still wearing that ridiculous scarf. I started laughing at that.

Mark looked at me strangely, "What's so funny?"

"You're – you're… that scarf… You're still wearing that scarf!"

Mark managed to crack a smile at that. Then his face went serious again. "Maureen, why are you here?"

I pushed his arms off me, "He was my best friend – did you think I wouldn't come to my best friend's funeral?"

"Well you weren't exactly here for anything else, you didn't talk to any of us – me – in almost ten years, what the hell do you expect me to think?" Mark was yelling at me now, I don't think I had ever hear him yell. Especially not at me.

I stared at him silently for a while. Mark had changed so much. It makes sense of course, people don't stay the same, I had changed. But yet, I guess I hadn't expected Mark to. He had always been a constant, you always knew how Mark would react.

When I spoke again, my voice was quiet, deathly calm, but I couldn't keep the bitter anger out of it.

"I was here for Mimi and Roger. I spoke to Collins daily. I've even seen Collins in the past ten years. Just because you personally didn't hear from me didn't mean I dropped off the face of the Earth, or that I stopped caring about any of you. The world does not revolve around you Mark Cohen!"

"Coming from the Drama Queen herself, that's a harsh one!" The sarcasm was dripping from his mouth.

That one stung – I was not the same person I was ten years ago, and even then there were reasons and stuff that I knew had been explained by Collins. Obviously Mark's listening skills left something to be desired.

"So you're the only one who can change over a period of time – is that it? Well, unlike you I've changed for the better, you've just become bitter and cold. And don't give me any of those crap excuses about how you're the only one to survive or any of that other shit you used to spew, you're not alone and your sure as hell not the only one hurting from all of this. Now if you don't mind, I would like to finish mourning in peace!" I was breathing heavily now, my face flushed and my body shaking. I flung myself back to the ground.

"I just came to get my jacked," Mark said quietly. He picked up the coat and walked away.

I started crying again. Silent tears streaming down my face. I didn't even bother wiping them away. I was frozen, just crying. Of all the ways I had pictured seeing and talking to Mark again, that was never how I imagined it.

"Goodbye love," I whispered, watching my breath carry the message away. I wasn't sure who it was I was talking about, or if it even mattered.

"Maureen."

I turned, Mark was back, standing just staring at me.

"What?" It came out harsher then I meant it to. I saw a look of hurt flicker briefly over his eyes. "What," I said again, softer, calmer.

"Where have you been?"

"Santa Fe."


	2. Friendship is Thicker than Blood

**A/N: I forgot to say this in chapter one, but this is the same story as the one juneflower16 was writing, and it's the same person writing it, just a different account.**

**Also, none of this belongs to me**

Chapter 2: Friendship is Thicker Than Blood

"Where have you been?"

"Santa Fe."

That seemed to stop Mark. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times with no sound coming out. I thought he looked rather fish-like and told him as much. At least now he wasn't gaping at me.

"What's so strange about Santa Fe?" I asked. In reality I knew, that had always been Collins thing – opening a restaurant in Santa Fe. I wondered if Mark knew that it was something Collins had fabricated, something to lift our spirits during the dark days. Also, Santa Fe was where Roger had planned to go, before I left. Mark's voice forced me out of my head, "Huh?" I asked.

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why Santa Fe, why did you leave, I mean Collins told us a little, but – why?"

Ok, so he had been listening. I sighed deeply. I hadn't been counting on running into anyone and getting into my past. I sighed again.

"Well?" Mark demanded.

"Mark, it's a long story, a complicated one…"

"I've got time."

I looked into his eyes. He seemed to really need this – closure I was guessing, a chance to finally move on. Collins had told me he hadn't seriously dated anyone since I left, and I know he hadn't before that, which means the last time Mark had a serious relationship was – shit, it was me. I was the last girlfriend Mark had. If I hadn't owed him an explanation before, I certainly did now. Figures, the two people it would be hardest to explain things to, Mark and Joanne, were the two who needed and deserved the explanation the most. Especially Mark.

"Let's go someplace a little warmer then."

Mark nodded, "I've just gotta drop something off at the loft first if you don't mind – I still live there."

"I know, and I don't mind," I smiled weakly, "sentimental reasons right? You feel like you should move, let go, move on, but at the same time it's just about the only thing you have left of them, of -," I stopped, the blank was supposed to be me, but I couldn't bring myself to say it. I plowed on, "of them, and you feel like if you leave the loft it'll be like you're betraying them or forgetting about them." I suddenly realized what I had said. _Shit Maureen, you see the boy again for all of ten minutes after being practically M.I.A. for ten years and you immediately have to get all shrink-y on him, smart move._

"Yeah," Mark seemed surprised that I knew about the loft and shocked at everything I had said. I had a feeling I was going to be seeing this expression of his a lot more very shortly. "How did you figure all that out?"

"It's all part of the story, come on, are we leaving?" Yes, even for all I had changed, I still was not the most patient person, especially in the cold.

The walk to the loft was a silent one. Mark quietly filming the streets of New York, occasionally mumbling to himself – or the camera, I wasn't sure which. As for myself, I walked alongside, lost in my own head. Being back in New York, specifically Alphabet City and specifically with Mark, was bringing back a lot of old memories.

Climbing the stairs to the loft was like a pound of déjà vu. So much happened on these stairs, so much of my life, of me… We reached the top and Mark spoke for the first time since we left the cemetery.

"If you want to just wait out here, I'll, uh, only be, uh..."

"That's fine," I smiled to let him know I didn't mind. Being alone would give me sometime to sort through my thoughts. Not to mention prepare myself for what I was about to tell Mark.

Mark looked back at me like he wasn't sure he should leave me alone. Probably afraid I would run away. I nodded in the direction of the door and he finally walked inside.

I looked around the hallway – not much had changed. It was still dark, dingy, and covered in graffiti. Speaking of graffiti… I walked over to the back corner of the hall. Kneeling down, my eyes searched the dark wall – yes, there it was, mine and Angel's contribution to the wall. I traced the outline with my finger. It was a tree, our family tree. Angel and I had been slightly drunk and were sitting in the tall talking, everyone else passed out on the floor. We had been discussing the theory that friendship is thicker then blood when Angel said that what we had wasn't a friendship, it was a family. So we drew the tree, a memorial of us, at least that's what it was now.

I looked at the tree more closely. Collins and Angel were at the top of the tree, as they were our lifelines, our angels. The next line Angel insisted would be Mark, Me, and Joanne. With me connected to both of them. I flashbacked to what I thought at the cemetery – here it was, right in front of my eyes. Under my row were Mimi, Roger, and then April – that time I was the one insisting. The last row was Benny. I felt like we had to include him, after all, he was once part of our family.

I felt tears well up in my eyes. God I was crying a lot today. I wiped the tears from my eyes with the back of my hand, Mark would be ready soon, and I didn't want to answer more questions than I had to. I stood up slowly, this place brought back so many memories, good, bad, everything in between. I wasn't sure how I felt about being thrust into the past again. I had worked so hard to do something right with my life, I didn't want to fuck that up like I did everything else.

"Hey."

I whipped around, "Oh, Mark, it's just you." I placed a hand on my chest feeling my heart pound wildly. "God, you scared me."

"Sorry, but, uh – there are some… Well, can you come in for a minute, there are some people you probably want to see."

I knew who it would be, and I wasn't sure I actually wanted to see either of them, but I was sure that Mark wouldn't take no for an answer, and truth be told, I didn't feel like arguing with him.

Shrugging my shoulders I replied, "Sure, why not?" I began walking towards the door. "Wait – did you tell them I was here?"

"I figured it's gonna be a surprise." Goody, a surprise.

Mark opened the door, "Hey guys, look who I found!" He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the loft.

As I had expected Joanne and Benny were sitting on the couch. The same couch that had been in the loft long before I ever moved in, Mark desperately needed to buy new furniture. The loft hadn't changed since I was here last. Still old, decrepit, and in desperate need of heat.

Joanne and Benny both turned when they heard Mark, and they both froze staring at me, mouths open. What was it with that fish-like expression today?

As expected Joanne recovered first. "Maureen? What are you doing here?"

"There was a funeral today." _Alright Maureen, not two seconds into your old life so to speak and already you're doing the bitchy drama queen thing, you really need to work on that._ "I came for Collins," I tried again, in a calmer tone.

"Umm… you do realize he's dead right? You can't see him or anything," Benny sneered.

I glared at him. Really that guy could be such an asshole, and completely tactless.

"Shut up Benny," Mark said, "Let's not start something." Mark – always the peacemaker.

"Why did you come back Maureen?" Joanne was looking at me intently.

Before I had a chance to answer, the loft door opened and a woman walked in with a young girl.

"Sorry, we had to make a stop, she forgot Moo-Moo," the woman said as she walked over to the couch and sat next to Joanne.

"No problem Honeybear."

My head shot up at that one. So this was the girlfriend – or was it wife, I think Collins had said something about a commitment ceremony. I could see them together, she looked like Joanne, neat, classic, impeccable, probably came complete with her own stuffy, boring office job. Even in my head I sounded jealous. It was absurd; I certainly didn't have any feelings for Joanne. Maybe it was just the name – Honeybear. Well, now I know I'm being ridiculous, I'm getting jealous of a name. The more important issue now though was the little girl. Collins hadn't mentioned a child.

"Mamma…Mamma who's that?" The little girl tugged on Joanne's sleeve and pointed at me.

Alright then, I guess she did have a kid. I wonder why Collins hadn't mentioned her. It wasn't like him to keep secrets from me.

"She's an old friend of ours, from a long time ago."

The little girl walked up to me and stuck out her hand, "Hello, I'm Daphne Thompson-Jefferson, how are you?"

I laughed out loud, it was pure Joanne! I knelt down so I was her height, "Hi sweetie. My name's Maureen. How old are you?"

"Five."

"That's what I thought, same age as Aby," I whispered to myself.

"Who's Aby?" she asked. Obviously, I spoke too loudly. Might as well get this over with.

"Aby's my daughter."

Joanne started choking and Mark once again did the fish thing.

"You have a daughter?" They both asked.

"Yes."

Joanne's girlfriend, what was her name – Jasmine was it? Yes, Jasmine, looked at me, "Wait – you're Maureen as in the ex who ran off and abandoned everyone because you were too selfish and self absorbed to care about anything else?"

Oh, so she was one of those, the one's who blame all problems and things that are in no way connected on the ex.

Joanne glared at her, "Honeybear – shh." And then to me, "That's not really how I phrased it."

"It's fine," I said coolly. "Yes, I'm that Maureen, but I'm afraid your missing something crucial in your side of the story."

"What's that?" Jasmine snipped.

"Facts and the truth as opposed to the bullshit you just flung at me."

At that Benny started laughing, "Maureen you haven't changed a wit!"

Mark finally stepped in, "Well, we were going someplace with food and heat so Maureen could give us some explanations.

This had suddenly become a group affair? Well, at least it saved me from repeating myself. Besides they would all have found out, Mark was always terrible at keeping secrets.

"How does the Life sound?" Mark asked.

"That's the only place we ever go." Benny rolled his eyes.

That I laughed at, "I see I'm not the only thing that 'hasn't changed a wit!'"

"Touché Ms. Johnson, touché."


	3. Moo With Me

**A/N: This chapters kind of filler-sorry, there are a couple important things, I had to set up the flashbacks which start next chapter.**

Chapter 3: Moo With Me

I always thought that places changed as time went by. Everyplace I had ever visited from my childhood had changed drastically. I was expecting this as I walked into the Life Café, but as with the loft, it was exactly the same.

Except for the people. I used to know the staff and regulars by name, was friendly with them, now I obviously knew no one. Much like the loft I realized. It hadn't changed, but the people in it had, or they di-

A tug on my hand jerked me back to reality.

"Miss Maureen, are you coming?" Daphne looked up at me smiling.

"Sorry Sweetie, I was thinking."

"S'ok!" Daphne slipped her hand into mine. "Come on!"

That tiny gesture tugged at my heart strings. It reminded me of Aby.

I let Daphne pull me over to our table in a secluded corner.

"I found her!" she shrieked.

All the adults, including Joanne, laughed. Well expect for Jasmine. She just looked sternly at Daphne and said,

"Use your indoor voice Daphne."

"Yes Mommy," Daphne said, her head hanging. I felt bad for the little girl, with Joanne and Miss Stick-Up-Her-Ass as mothers, the kid probably never got a break.

"I wanna sit next to Miss Maureen, she's cool!" Daphne giggled.

"No, Daphne, your staying next to me," Jasmine said.

"But I wanna sit next to Miss Maureen!"

"It's fine with me," I interjected, trying to avoid the temper tantrum that I feared would follow.

"Well, I am her mother and I don't want her sitting near you," Jasmine put her hand protectively around her daughter.

"Relax, I'm not gonna kidnap her or anything."

"I'm more worried about you corrupting her."

Ok, what was this woman's problem, cause she clearly had one with me. Mind you she has known me for the grand total of ten minutes. My guess – she was a little insecure about her relationship with Joanne and the rest of the group. Probably afraid I would take them away. That was sad, but I could see where she was coming from, especially since I'm positive Mark and Joanne, and Roger when he was alive, filled her head with many stories about my alleged cheating, my flirting addiction, and many of my other bad girlfriend qualities.

I put a hand on the arm she had resting on the table. She flinched, but didn't pull away. "Honey, I'm not gonna steal Joanne away. Besides I despise long-distance relationships…phone sex just isn't the same!"

Benny started laughing, Mark flushed bright red and choked on his drink, in typical Joanne fashion, Joanne rolled her eyes. I used to tell her they'd get stuck like that someday. She'd tell me to give her less to roll her eyes about. I was expecting someone to make a comment on the phone sex thing, something along the lines of how I would just go out and pick up a random stranger. I was relieved when no one did.

Jasmine nodded, she didn't look completely convinced, but we made some progress. I took my hand off her arm, I didn't need Joanne flipping on me.

I took a sip of the beer Mark ordered. Alcohol in my system was much needed if I had to tell my life story.

"Are there any pressing questions that can't wait, or should I just start from the beginning?" I looked around expectantly.

Questions came flying at me.

"You really have a daughter?

"Are you married?"

"Where were you?"

"Which team you batting for now?" That was Benny obviously.

"Still protesting?"

I held up my hands, "Ok – ok! Yes, I really have a daughter, Aby, she's five. I'm divorced. I live in Santa Fe. I'm not holding protests like I was ten years ago. I have an actual job now, I'm a youth therapist.

"You're a what?" Joanne asked.

"A youth therapist, you know, listen to kid's problems, help them, that sort of thing."

"Maureen, honey, when have you ever listened to anyone other than yourself?" Joanne tried to ask gently.

I just looked at her. She had a right to be resentful I suppose, but even so, that was harsh.

"Well, I think that after I finish explaining everything, you'll all see that the person not listening wasn't me."

I admit, I was getting a tad snappy, but what was this, gang up on Maureen day? I know I should be used to it from them, but even so… Especially when they want an explanation from me, the least they could do is pretend to be nice.

"Miss Maureen?"

"Yes Sweetie," I smiled at Daphne, she was such a cute kid, I could easily see her and Aby as friends.

"You need to meet Moo-Moo!" She held up a stuffed cow.

"Hello Moo-Moo, it's nice to meet you," I shook the cow's hoof.

"Moo-Moo's my favoritest animal!" Daphne exclaimed.

I laughed, "Mine too!"

Joanne rolled her eyes, "You and cows," she laughed.

Deciding to have a little fun, I put my fingers to my nose and – "Moooo!"

Daphne laughed, "Do it again! Do it again!"

From the looks on Mark, Benny, and Joanne's faces they were all thinking about my Over the Moon/CyberArts protest.

"Alright, but you have to," I paused dramatically, "Moo with me!"

A collection of groans and laughs resounded as we moo-ed.

Jasmine sighed impatiently, "Are you telling this story or not? _Some_ of us have to work tomorrow."

"It's a very long story. To fully understand it, we're gonna have to start at the very beginning…"


	4. The Wicked Witch of the West

**A/N: Thanks for all the great feedback! I fixed the point of view issue in chapter two-I really shouldn't type these chapters up late at night… Sorry it's been so long since an update, I knew what I wanted to happen in this chapter, it just wasn't arranging itself correctly, feedback would be wonderful (nudge nudge!!!).**

**The italics are present day. Enjoy!**

Chapter 4: The Wicked Witch of the West

"_My first memory was when I was two years old. It is my only complete memory of my family. I remember sitting in the living room of our tiny town-house. My parents were on the couch and I was snuggled safely between them. We were watching "The Wizard of Oz." I loved that movie, but I was absolutely terrified of the wicked witch. Whenever she came on screen I would bury my face in my Daddy's shoulder. He would pull me close until she was gone. Nothing could hurt me as long as my Daddy was there. He would always protect me._

_I remember clips of what our family was back then, splashing in the rain, being swung in the air – happy times. By the time I was three, though, my father started coming home later and later, picking fights with me and my mother. I remember him always having the worst breath. Later I realized he was an alcoholic. The night he left my mother and I were watching "The Wizard of Oz" and they were just about to enter the witch's castle…"_

The door slammed open and close. I could hear my father clomping around the kitchen shouting words that Mommy told me I should never repeat. Daddy scared me when he acted like this. I wanted my sweet Daddy who held me close and sang me to sleep. Not this big scary man who smelled and threw things and hit Mommy.

"Lisa!" he shouted, "Lisa where the fuck are you?"

Mommy looked at me, "Stay here sweetheart; I'll be right back, keep watching the movie, okay?"

"But Mommy the witch is soon!"

"I'll be back before then, I promise."

She walked out of the room closing the door behind her. Even so I could hear what she and Daddy were saying in the kitchen.

"Erik, I've told you not to come into my house drunk and cursing – we have a child."

"I'll come and go wherever the fuck I want and if I wanna drink, then I'll drink, and if I wanna fuckin curse, I'll fucking curse all the fuckin hell I want to – bitch!"

"Erik, sit, let me make you some coffee, your not making any sense."

I don't know what happened next, but I heard a slap and Mommy scream. Then she and Daddy started yelling at each other. I turned up the volume on the television to block them out. It didn't work; I could still hear the yelling and the fighting.

Turning the volume up as high as it would go I turned my complete attention to the movie. I hated when my parents fought, it always ended with Daddy storming out of the house and Mommy locking herself in her room, and both of them yelling at me.

I focused in on the movie, ignoring the fight that continued in the next room. The witch was on screen now, her green face filling the screen. I was terrified, but it was either watch the witch or listen to my parents fight – I chose the witch, the lesser of two evils. I stared at the screen, watching for the first time with no one to protect me and I realized that the witch wasn't actually that scary. For the first time it wasn't my parents protecting me from her, it was her protecting me from them.

The movie credits were rolling by the time Mommy finally came back.

"Oh, it's over sweetheart?"

"Yes… But Mommy I watched-ed the witch and guess what?!" I didn't wait for her respond, "I'm not at all scared of her at all anymore!"

"That's nice." Mommy patted my head like I was a dog. She turned and walked upstairs, slowly, like she was sleepwalking. I followed. At the top of the stairs she turned to me, "Maureen honey, Mommy needs some time alone right now, why don't you go play in your room for a little bit, okay?"

I nodded slowly. Mommy's eye looked funny, it was turning weird colors and her wrist was hanging at an odd angle.

I played in my room all afternoon and evening. Mommy never came in, not even after I was asleep, for when I woke up the next morning, I was on the floor in the clothes I had worn the day before.

Things changed quickly after that. Mommy's sister, Vanessa, came to stay with us. Aunt Vanessa scared me; she was always glaring at me and yelling at me that I was being bad. Mommy and I rarely played anymore, and Daddy never came home.

It had been two weeks since Aunt Vanessa came and Daddy stopped coming home. Mommy's eye was normal again, but she had this thing on her arm – she called it a cast. I got to draw pictures on it. I drew a picture of me, Mommy, and Daddy. She started to cry when I finished and Aunt Vanessa yelled at me for being inconsiderate. I also drew a cow. Cows were Mommy's and my favorite animal. She used to tell me a bedtime story about a cow that jumped over the moon, I thought it was silly, cows couldn't fly, but Mommy loved it.

I spent most of my time hiding from Aunt Vanessa. My favorite hiding spot was Daddy's closet. I would hide in his suits and play with his ties. Sometimes I pretended I was a princess trapped in a tower, waiting for a prince to save me. Other times, I was a witch, brewing potions and casting spells.

One day, I was downstairs eating lunch when I heard the front door open. Mommy and Aunt Vanessa were at the table, the realization hit me,

"Daddy! Daddy's back!" I squealed, jumping from the table and running towards the door. I saw Aunt Vanessa and Mommy exchange a look.

I threw my arms around Daddy, hugging him tightly. He pushed me away, "Not now Maureen."

I followed him upstairs. He started throwing his clothes haphazardly into a suitcase.

"Daddy, what are you doing? Is there a trip? Are we gonna see Mickey Mouse?" He didn't respond. As he walked down the stairs, I saw my mother standing at the bottom.

"Erik…" she said.

"Forget it Lisa, I'm leaving," he interrupted her. With that, he walked out the door – never once looking back.


	5. A Cow Elsie

**A/N: Originally this chapter and chapter 4 were combined, but then I got frustrated, needed to update, and split them, so sorry if this is kind of short.**

**This takes place immediately following chapter 4, still in flashback. Enjoy!**

Chapter 5- And I'm Alone

That night, after Aunt Vanessa finally went home, Mommy came into my room. She pulled out my suitcase and started folding my clothes into it.

"Are we staying wif Daddy?" I asked.

Mommy paused, then came to sit next to me on my bed. She began running her fingers through my hair. "Oh Sweetie, Daddy's not coming back, we're not joining him."

"Ever?"

"Ever."

Tears started to well up in my eyes. Mommy wrapped her arms around me and gave me a huge hug.

"It'll be okay, sweetie," she soothed, "I'm going to be here. The two of us will stick together, forever and always."

That night Mommy stayed with me while I slept.

The next morning, however, she announced that we were moving in with Aunt Vanessa, Uncle Connor, and my cousin Jessie. Uncle Connor had no personality; he merely went along with whatever his wife told him. Jessie was a year younger than me but I didn't know her very well. I wasn't looking forward to living with Aunt Vanessa; but Mommy said it would only be for a little while,

"Just until I find a little house for the two of us," she said.

"Can we get a pet?"

"Of course we can."

"Can we getta cow!?" I asked excitedly. I wanted a cow very badly.

Mommy just laughed and said she'd think about it.

We moved in with Aunt Vanessa. Their house wasn't very big, so Mommy and I had to share the guestroom. I didn't like staying there; Mommy spent most days of the next month trying to find a house and Jessie took up everyone else's attention. I was stuck in the background, ignored. So I lived in a fantasy world. My imaginary friends were my favorite playmates, the stories I made up became my life, things were perfect in my pretend world. Real life, however, was beginning to crash down around me.

"Hey diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle, the cow jumped over the moon. The little dog laughed to see such fun and the dish ran away with the spoon! And then they all went to sleep and dreamed happy dreams." Mommy kissed my forehead. "Sleep tight sweetheart, I love you."

"I love you too, Mommy!" She smiled and got up off the floor where I was sleeping and turned towards her bed. "Mommy?"

"Yes?"

"Can we getta cow tomorrow?" I asked sleepily.

"Sure sweetie," she replied. "I'll get you a cow tomorrow."

"Goody!" I drifted off to sleep smiling happily.

When I woke up the next morning, Mommy wasn't in bed, nor was she downstairs. When I asked Aunt Vanessa she said that Mommy had already gone out and that I should go outside to play. I took my doll and went out to the swing that Uncle Connor had hung from a tree.

I was too little to sit on the swing, so it took me a while to figure out how to climb up on it. I finally was sitting on the swing, my doll next to me, when I realized I couldn't go anywhere. My legs were too short to reach the ground. Instead, I just sat there, talking with my Dolly.

I must have fallen asleep for when Mommy shook my shoulder it was getting dark out. She picked me up and carried me upstairs. As she was tucking me into bed, she handed me a small, oddly shaped, brightly wrapped gift.

"It's not my birfday," I mumbled.

Mommy just smiled, "Open it."

I did and found a plush cow.

"I promised to get you a cow today," Mommy said, "do you like her?"

"I love my cow!"

"Does she have a name?"

I thought very hard for a good minute, "Elsie," I declared. "Her name is Elsie."


End file.
